Sleeper
by CyclonaJade
Summary: A one shot introduction to my weird little world. An ongoing collection of stories centered around MarkTaker & the world he is in.


Title: Sleeper

Copright: None of them are mine except for one, complete work of fiction, just for fun.

Involves: Mark Calaway/Taker/Kane/Parents + 1 Original

Authors note: This is not my usual style of writing. However I have been working on a series of short stories all centered around the same scenario for around 4 years now and I plan on posting it bit by bit now its done, as and when I get it coded etc etc. Basically everything you see from me from here on out will be set in this world, I doubt i'll ever break from it. This is the introduction, a little script like but it serves the purpose. Only short. Gives you a bit of background on what i'm doing. Has a rating for some adult themes. I'm not entirely sure i've got the coding for this place right either haha, so bear with me.

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'I couldn't tell you really where it all began. I can only tell you for sure how it ended. Or at least the way it is going. Depending on who you ask the future could right now not be looking brighter. But if you ask me, I see nothing but pain, death, and misery over the coming years. It isn't the brightest outlook to have on the world and personally I'm not enjoying it. But that's just the way life goes sometimes. I've had so many people ask me over the years how I let things get so out of control, how I let things spiral into this pit we are in right now. Truth is I don't have an easy answer, I try to look back on my life to see if I can get a bearing on the exact point things started to go wrong. But I can never see it, because as far as I can remember my life has never been normal. It has never been easy. But if its answers you are looking for, I can at least try and show you a little of what came before. In the hope perhaps someone will hear my story… and learn from it.'_

**\-Spring 1972-/ **

_'I was ten years old and just coming off of the high of my birthday. It was a mild spring as it always was in that part of the country and I was I suppose a happy kid at that point. We had problems at home, my dad was a mean fuckin drunk who used to drink a bottle of Jack and then come home and beat the hell outta my mom. It became something akin to a routine. I'd get in from school to find my dinner on the table and my mother crying over the dishes. I never really asked her what was wrong, I never even really questioned the bruises on her face or the handprints on her arm. It just never really occurred to me that my dad, my hero at the time, could ever do something like that. Hell I was a kid I figured she had just been out wrestling with her friends. And she never told me otherwise.'_

It was the 70's and so the houses reflected the era, a little bit tatty, standard white with mouldering edges and simple single pane glass windows. The era was classed as 'funky' and so everywhere you looked orange patterned curtains hung glaring out into the streets hiding the tacky plastic tends inside the houses. The streets of this time were filled with kids, the dangers so prevalent in this day and age not really a worry back then. High above the boys head the skeleton of a kite dangles from a power line, caught up after escaping its owner in a vicious wind storm they had suffered only days ago. But now evening sun beat down upon the street bathing all in its orange glow.

_**'**It wasn't the best part of town and it wasn't the nicest street you could ever hope to live on. But it was comfortable, the kind of place where everybody knew everybody. The baker lived next door to the butcher and only five doors down the towns Undertaker, my Dad. We lived across the street from the teacher at school who was rumoured to be cheating on his wife with almost every other woman in town. It was gossip, and the housewives that ruled this street did love their gossip. Every morning you could look out of your window and see Barbara and Betty having a chat over the fence as they trimmed their rose bushes down to the nubs. Your business was everybody elses business, and nothing went secret for long. I often wondered why it was I caught such strange looks off of the neighbours as I went by, I guess they all knew something back then that I didn't…'_

The boy runs his fingers along a white picket fence, finally reaching his destination he swings open the rickety gate and runs up the path, letting himself in through the front door where we follow him inside. He dumps his bag down on the hard wood floor with the exuberant enthusiasm of his youth, and chases into the kitchen where sure enough a red headed woman, hair neatly tied behind her head in a firey ponytail, stands washing dishes. She glances over her shoulder at him and smiles, welcoming him back from a day at school and asking him how his day was. He shrugs, sitting up at the table and tucking into a slice of bread and butter before moving over his bowl of soup and making a start on that. After a long day at school he was always hungry, and his mother was the best chef in town. Not that he had sampled anybody else's cooking, they weren't well off enough to afford that kind of luxury.

**"**It was okay I guess."  
**"**Where is your brother?" His mother asks, dropping another dish into the sink.  
Theres a second shrug as he dunks a slice of the crusty home cooked bread into his soup and shovels it into his mouth.  
**"**Mark?"  
**"**I dunno! Miss Avery asked him to stay behind again. I think he beat up Tommy in the yard during break or something." At this Anna, his mother. Rolls her eyes and goes back to her dishes, shaking her head as she does so while Mark finishes up his tea by gulping down a big glass of milk

_'As you can see I wasn't too worried back then what my mother might have been thinking about things. I guess she had a lot to hide, my little brother had my fathers temper we all knew that. What we didn't know was that my brother wasn't actually my full brother at all. He was the child of another man, a man I'd never met at the time. A man my father worked with. Did my dad know about the affair? That's not an answer I've ever had given to me. But I do know what the aftermath of my mothers infidelity was. That night, when Glen got home, I had front row seats to something that left me scarred for life.'_

There's a massive slam, the front door almost coming off of its hinges. The man that is responsible for this stands in the doorway wearing a long trench coat and large rimmed hat. He rips the hat from his head to reveal shimmering eyes that glisten with anger. Tossing the hat aside he tugs off his coat and hangs it up, his fists balling as he steps into the corridor. "ANNA!! WHERE IS HE?"

_'This of course drew my attention, I knew my dad would get mad at us sometimes but I had to admit this time, it had me spooked. I ran out of my bedroom to the top of the stairs and hesitated, lingering by the top banister to see and hear if it really was me that was in trouble this time.'_

He stalks further into the corridor until Anna peeks her head out from the kitchen, her expression drawn and pale. "Frank don't go crazy now, its not as bad as it seems really. Its only a week suspension."

_It wasn't me he was after, it was my little brother Glen. I have to admit at the time I felt relief in my heart, I knew my father could dish out some lashings with his belt when we were bad, but I had never seen him this mad before. It was enough to chill even the devils heart I'm sure.'_

Frank drops down his work bag and storms toward the kitchen while at the top of the stairs, little Mark crouches down, barely daring to sit on the top step to see what happens next. He closes his eyes and bites his lip as he hears Frank storm into the kitchen. There's a slamming sound and then a cry from Anna. The words that followed left him cold.

"You little bastard, do you have any IDEA what this will do to my reputation? We have an image to uphold you little freak and you go around getting suspended and breaking Tommy Walsh's arm. Well I got news for you sonny, you wanna be a man? You're gonna take what's given to you like a man."

_'My heart was pounding in my chest as I heard my brother cry out. It wasn't unusual for my dad to take the belt to us but this was different, this was something else entirely. I'll never forget my mothers screams at him to stop. And then this vile crack as he hit her and she hit the table. I'm guessing from that point she had knocked herself out because I didn't hear her again. All I heard was my brother take the beating of a lifetime. Looking back on it I wonder if my dad did know Glen wasn't his, because he certainly didn't treat us the same way. That was one of the longest nights of my life, and Glen didn't come to bed that night. When I asked in the morning where he was my mother said he had hurt his head and had to go to the doctors real early. It was the first time I hadn't believed her in my life, and the pain of that lie shot through me like a dart. I knew, I knew even then at ten years old as I looked my mother in her bruised eye, something was very wrong with this family. And I became determined to find out what.'_

The scene fades from the small boy with tears in his eyes sitting at the top of the stairs, to momentary blackness. Until we re-open in what looks like a very sterile basement. The camera's pan slowly to reveal what looks to be a body! Covered by a while sheet, a small table stands beside covered in tools. And a slight clang alerts us to the presence in the room. It's Frank, he tosses aside a rag and chucks something else into a bin before pulling off his protective gloves and glasses. As he leans over his finished work, he glances to his right where we see Mark watching in pale awe.

**"**What's the matter kid you're acting like you aint never seen a dead body before."

There's a vile chuckle from the man as Mark turns a peculiar shade of green. Of course he's never seen this before, but this is the family business and he had wanted to spend some more time with his father to perhaps find out what it was that motivated him. Frank pulls the tray across the tiled floor and to one of the cold stores, yanking open the door he shoves the trolley and the body inside as though it is nothing but a piece of meat in a butchers store. Slamming the freezer shut behind him, he motions for Mark to scrub up and follow him.

They stand in silence as both of them scrub their hands clean with surgical soap and change out of the green overalls. Mark eyes his father cautiously as they make their way out of the building, final job for the day. Frank pauses near the door to write something in a heavy leather bound diary. His long coat and hat were quickly situated about his person, and then they were on their way.

_**'**It was a short walk between the parlour and my home. I know I know, history books say we actually lived at the funeral home but that was just part of the bullshit story told to you guys to make my life sound… well I don't know how they wanted it to sound. Truth of it was we lived about a quarter mile from the place, and I was happy as hell to get out of there after that first visit. I knew undertaker was what my dad wanted both me and Glen to be. I wasn't so sure about it at the time but I pretty much grew up believing I didn't have that much of a choice. After all, my father would probably kill us both if we said we didn't want to follow in his footsteps and the footsteps of the generations gone before him. I took this time to see if I could get into my dad's head a bit.'_

We follow the two as they walk side by side along the neatly paved streets littered with drink cans and packets blowing in the gentle wind. Its another warm sunny day but the breeze is on the chilly side and little Mark keeps his coat pulled tight around him.

**"**So uhh, Dad. When's Glen coming home?" It is said with all the hopeful innocence of youth, tilting his face toward his father and trying his best not to arouse suspicion. There's a visible grimace on Franks face as he walks, its unclear if it's a grimace of guilt of disgust at the boy's name. But he clears his throat and finds his answer.  
"Soon as the doc gives the brat the all clear." Mark looks a little hurt by the name calling directed at his brother, but soldiers on regardless, not wanting to push too hard though lest he become victim to the same fate as Glen.  
"Well I was just wonderin', is his head hurt because he did something wrong and you had to correct him?"  
"Everybody needs discipline son, everybody. Your brother broke the rules of this house and he paid the price. It aint too much to ask to have a son of mine behave like a normal human being and I have a reputation in this town to uphold. I already got the Walsh's breathin down my neck sayin we owe them for what happened to Tommy. I aint got the money to pay em for the doctors bills so when Glen gets out of hospital, he'll be working for em after school every day. Maybe then he'll learn a little something about responsibility."

Mark nods his head slightly and drops into silence, this line of questioning hasn't really gotten him any closer to finding out the truths he so desperately sought. But one thing is clear, his mother lied to him, and his father put his brother in hospital.

_**'**Its an unusual feeling, when hatred sets in for a family member. I'd always looked up to my father as this strong silent figure that always got the job done. Turns out from that point on I noticed more and more flaws. Suddenly I could smell the liquor on his breath when he came in from work. Every night I lay in bed and where I had been oblivious before, I could hear now my mothers sobs as she cried herself to sleep. I was afraid, and I don't mind admitting it. When Glen came home he was not the same person he was before the beating. He grew silent, introverted. Never wanted to play with me anymore, when he wasn't doing his chores at the Walsh's he was on the receiving end of more of my fathers ire. I don't know if that was where my mothers resentment toward me began or not, but I guess she must have noticed she and Glen received all the brunt of my fathers ire. He never laid a hand on me. I guess I was the golden son, good at sports and good grades at school. An interest in his work. Truth was I was just terrified to not be everything he wanted me to be. Maybe I was a coward. Maybe that was where this really all began.'_

**\- Summer 1974 -/ **

_**'**Two years passed like this, every night I'd go to bed listening to Glenn and mom catch the brunt of my fathers wrath. Every day I'd go to school, do my chores, come home and eat my dinner in silence before slipping away to my room to avoid what was happening. On weekends I'd help my father out at the parlour and soon as my brother hit his tenth birthday, my dad had him there too. Though he gave Glenn the really nasty jobs like clearing up the blood and washing down the bodies. I never had to do any of that, I was taught the more technical side and helped with the book keeping. Glenn was different, all signs of childhood life had vanished from his eyes. It was like staring into a void when you looked at him. The boy was gone, and there was nothing I could do to find him. I missed my brother, desperately. Then one night.. It all went to hell.'_

We come back in to see Mark and a pretty blonde haired girl sneaking in through the back door of the house. Mark puts his finger over his lips to silence her giggles as the tiptoe across the corridor and quickly rush into what appears to be his fathers study. Mark moves swiftly while the girl guards the door, on the lookout for anybody that might spot them. He rummages quickly through two drawers until finally he finds a small silver flask containing his fathers liquor. He holds it up as a prize but as soon as he flips the cap from it, his girlfriend makes a run for the door. Mark freezes as the back door slams shut, and a shadow looms in the entry way to the study.

**"**What the hell do you think you're doing boy?" The voice creeps out from behind him, a serpents hiss that could chill the devil himself immobile.  
"I… nothing I…"  
"Don't lie to me boy. I hate liars, don't tell me you're turning into the same piece of crap as your brother I thought you were better than that!"

_**'**I lost two teeth, couldn't speak for a week cause I bit through my tongue losin em. That was the final straw, I knew I had to do something. My soul was already broken down by what I saw and heard happen to my mother and brother, but up until that point I'd never had the balls to do anything about it. But what could I do? I was twelve years old. Turn to God? I'd already tried church, this was a good Christian family after all, we attended church every Sunday on the dot without fail, even when sick. My father called himself a god fearing man, and every Sunday I would sit and listen to tales of woe and damnation, temptation, and evil. If my prayers every night to God were going unanswered, I began to wonder if my answer lay in something else entirely. That's when I found her. At the time she called herself Mistress Claudia. I don't think that was anywhere near her real name. I met her at the graveyard one evening. I always went there to think, its quiet there. Everybody is dead. I guess you could say I always got on with the dead far better than actual people. She came to me asking what a boy my age was doing looking so troubled. I dunno why but I told her, I told a complete stranger my life story in a single breath. And I told her I thought God had abandoned me, and my family. I'll never forget her scornful laugh as she told me I was looking in the wrong place for guidance and support. 'God is dead, he doesn't care about you. But I know someone that does, the lord of broken and wandering souls. He will give you strength and fire if you let him'…'_

Mark glances sideways at the strange looking woman in a beautiful gown almost fit for a ball. She stares back at him with piercing black eyes. **"**Who?"  
"There is no light without the dark. But the light only wishes to see light. It steers clear of the shadows and the dark you speak of. The only thing that can control the darkness is the dark one himself. You ask him for help, he will give it. It is what he is there for."  
**"**You mean, the Devil?"  
She laughs, a vibrant but somehow disturbingly hollow sound. Throwing her head back her long black hair falls like a hundred claws scratching at her back. He frowns a little, so tired of people laughing at him and his misconceptions. "If that is what you wish to call him. But we do not feel the need to label our lord as your kind do."  
"If my dad is my kind, then I don't think I wanna be a part of that."  
Claudia levels her gaze on him and nods silently, as thought judging his level of commitment to what he is saying. He draws up to his still relatively small height and stares back at her until she gives a second nod. "Very well, then meet us at midnight tonight. We will give you what you need." Claudia turns her back on him and begins to move away, but he takes a step after her and calls out.  
"Meet you where?"  
"Follow the fire, it will take you where you need to go." With that, the mysterious woman walked away into shadow and could no longer be seen, melding into it as though the sucking blackness of the dark were truly her home. Leaving Mark to ponder just what it is she meant.

_**'**As it turns out, following the fire wasn't as hard as it sounded. I crept out of bed that night on feathered feet, I had never felt more positive about anything I had done before. This was it, I had thought. My answer finally in sight, the resolution to it all. I escaped that house and followed my nose, the smell of burning in the air. When I reached the end of the second street I saw it, the fire high in the sky. It wasn't too long of a walk to get there and I made it in record time, practically sprinting my way to the top of the hill where I encountered the group for the first time. They welcomed me with open arms, like a family I had never had. They told me stories of what their 'lord' had done for them and looking at them in their rich clothes eating the finest of food I had to believe them. It wasn't anywhere near as dark and satanic as it had sounded. They told me of a ritual for strength, and I agreed to have it done. Anything I had thought. Anything to get Glen and my mom out of this. It was all for them, to save them. But they didn't do it straight away, they told me they had to know my intentions were pure and that I was strong enough to handle what they were about to bestow upon me. It took a month, but finally, they were ready._

_Seven vials of blood were poured upon my forehead, and I drank a concoction that tasted like blood itself. I cant remember now the words spoken but it was my first taste of Latin. I remember as I ate the raw flesh of a goat sacrificed not two feet away from me, a feeling surge through me like I'd never felt before. Pure power, I felt strength in every bone. My ears rang and I felt as though my mind sharpened. There was a bitter taste in my mouth as I swallowed that last bite. And then… I remember nothing. Nothing until I awoke at dawn, the sun just rising at the brow of the hill. I'll never forget the smell as I came to, strong burning in my nostrils. The smell of death.'_

We come back in to see Mark laying dirty and coughing in the middle of his road, a thick black smoke fills the air and as he sits up and brushes the soot from his body, he lays eyes on what it is he is smelling. He is mere feet from his home, and it is engulfed in flame.

The look on his face is one of complete terror, horrors until as the fire roars, the sound deafening to his small ears as flames reached skyward eating everything in its path. Everything in the house. He could hear the sound of screaming, chilling, blood curdling screams as all around him neighbours gathered in panic to watch, yelling for someone to call 911 and be quick about it. All Mark can do is sit and watch.. And listen.

_** '**But it turns out the screams weren't those of my parents and my brother. They were mine.'_

In the background of this tragic scene stands Mistress Claudia, dressed in blood red, a wicked smile upon her face. She pulls her hood back up and over her head before turning her back on the scene and walking away. Leaving little Mark wailing in the arms of a concerned neighbour.

_** '**To this day I don't know what happened. I know that night something consumed me, we all know now what that something is. But who set fire to the house remains a mystery. What happened in the ten hours I was unconscious? Did I do it? Did Claudia do it? Or maybe.. Maybe my father just lost it. I'll never know that for sure. But as the bard would tell it, here's where the story ends. It's as much of a beginning as I can give you. As much insight as I have into my soul. And maybe somewhere in there is the answer to getting rid of the thing that plagues me to this day. I don't know, but I'm hoping someone else will…'_

"You do talk a lot of shit don't you?"

**"**Oh go to hell Taker."

**"**We got work to do first Mark. So quit your whining and lets get with the training. Theres a midget needs taking down, and if I'm not mistaken, a ritual to complete. So get up ya sick bag."

**"**Youre a real ray of sunshine you know that?"

**"**Spreading happiness worldwide. Now how do you turn this thing off?"

**\-CLICK-/ **


End file.
